Thursday, June 30, 2011

Books are fun to read but writing is a much better adventure...

Put a pen in my hand and instantly the dam breaks.

I laugh at life because it reminds me so much of a kid’s first few visits to the dentist; before anyone sets sail on an open journey the imagination is tested then allowed to sift through the gold plated basket on Heavens table for tiny objects that lead to inspiration.

Such practices have helped me turn tree bark into battleships then speedboats, movie cameras and live microphones on the world’s largest rock concert stages.

Writing daily is a backyard stream whose origin is an underground spring. The goal is to never question the presence of thought but chase it like you did when first love seeped into your young arms landing with a major splash in a heart that’s controlled everything you’ve always done.

Then it goes away…

In Justin Timberlake’s new film Friend’s with Benefits his unwritten chapters are challenged when his father’s Alzheimer’s reaches outside the family circle of secrets. I didn’t know of my Grandmother’s illness until it was too late. In this film, the gold plated basket places a lesson in your open palm that goes beyond a love story with Mila Kunis.

Embarrassingly I admit that my decision to run from my Grandmother was wrong. At seventeen I didn’t understand the disease, nor could I figure out why she held so much anger. I assumed it was me because I reminded her of my birth father who had hurt her so deeply.

To watch Justin embrace his father’s changes puts value in the reasons why we should continue to learn more about Alzheimer’s; borrowing from the elders that have lead multiple generations of Native American’s…I ask that you invite your loved ones to write. From birth to the final horizon experience is the perfectly in tune song life sings.

It’s what Nicholas Sparks painted into place in The Note Book.

Writing isn’t easy because we’re trained in our budding years to create stories, build a beginning middle and end or generate the energy to expose a hidden self because diaries were brought into this world to serve as a safe zone.

Harry Potter wouldn’t be if it hadn’t been for JK Rowling’s final breath of survival. She was homeless but not without thought. Mark Twain stayed true to his southern accent turning every page into a blistering hot summer day. Studying his behavior as a writer allows me to rest my hands in the sweat his wrists once made on the pages of a living tree.

Blogging, Texting and Twittering is a great start but compared to what you’ll share with the world after you’re gone…it’s the unexpected vomit the stomach shoots up your throat forcing you to make a decision…spit or swallow.

Find a pen and give it a name. Mine has been dubbed Soul Survivor. The worst of moods or the greatest highs are fun to write about but hardly if ever make it to the morning pages because once Soul Survivor connects with my imagination…I reach father than life allows only to learn all things created should be shared.

Legendary artist Peter Max yelled those words at me during a show.

I will always believe in you first.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Pre-programmed robots...

Master Harris is relentless in his way of training a growing martial arts mind, “If a goal is to be met one must learn to master one thing.”

Set free like wild monkeys on this modern path of multi-task or be fired, it’s extremely difficult for the current state of the human mind to think of itself as a single source of energy. As you’ll see in the soon to be released Tom Hanks/Julia Roberts film Larry Crowne; to be a master of one ability fuels a corporation’s lack of truly viewing the talent only to recognize their commodity as being an object no longer worth investing in.

Albert Einstein wrote, “Only one who devotes himself to a cause with his whole strength and soul can be a true master. For this reason mastery demands all of a person.”

And today Albert would be standing in the unemployment line.

Gandhi said, “All of your scholarships, all your study of Shakespeare and Wordsworth would be vain if at the same time you did not build your character and attain mastery over your thoughts and your actions.”

This isn’t bragging nor are we having a teenage who can pee the farthest contest but I’m physically amazed at the enormous amount of time and money Clear Channel Media spends on educating their massive amounts of employees. Like Gandhi explains, in the moments that follow the information being shared it’s ultimately up to the student to master the art of participation.

When you eliminate ego…who today is a master at their craft?

In martial arts we’re trained to strike, block, kick and move in ways that theory says will dominate the aggressor but if a battle rolls to the ground inside the depths of twenty seconds which part of the Master Quest did you fail to study? We are the generation trained to quit. We’ve allowed everyone to have second and third choices. Stand in line at Wendy’s, McDonald’s, Wal-Mart, Home Depot and Kohl’s; you’ll fall witness to amazing amounts of careless decisions with the attitude of; if I don’t like it…they’ll take it back. You don’t need a receipt!

In Richard Andrew King’s writings The Black Belt Book: The Secrets of a Martial Arts Master, he exposes two sides of mastery: External involves skill while internal gives you permission to slay the beast and or fear of their being. Unless both sides are recognized for each of their separate energies everything you are…is nothing more than a secret to the self you’ll become tomorrow followed by the next day and so on.

No day passes that each of us don’t face challenges; image, courage, discipline, persistence, unworthiness, weakness, self confidence and procrastination… What’s your weapon of choice? How will you slay the beast?

Richard claims you should challenge them head on; in doing so you develop a great sense of accomplishment and centeredness.

External mastery is the act that occurs when it involves other people and situations. How do you handle yourself under tremendous amounts of pressure caused by holiday workweeks when everyone not even the boss wants to participate but inside you know there’ll be failure if someone doesn’t put focus into play?

I’ve lectured to hundreds of future Broadcasters and calmly pointed out that it wasn’t their decision to participate with human thoughts projecting from car or computer speakers. Like Eric Clapton and Eddie Van Halen something in the universe shouted so loud that one morning they woke up and began to listen. Then I pop reality out of its box, “What if you’re the person on the air during a massive earthquake or more planes leap toward American buildings? What if a tiny nation designs a weapon of mass destruction and it requires 45 minutes to reach our shoreline? Are you the Broadcaster that remains to help educate a listener’s next decision or do you fold? If you feel as if you can’t handle the pressure of accepting what a real Broadcaster might be asked to do…Taco Bell is looking for a window order taker…and it comes with a really cool microphone.”

Let’s return to Mr. Einstein’s quote: Only one who devotes himself to a cause with his whole strength and soul can be a true master. For this reason mastery demands all of a person.

Multi-tasking is what human’s do not owls, dogs, fish in a backyard pond or your neighbor Mike who’s ability to grow perfect tomatoes has turned into a jealous machine of envy. Through multi-tasking identify your skill then master it. I love being on the air sharing stories about your favorite musicians and crafting unique ways to say it’s going to rain. But I’m not a master at it. I’ve mastered the art of listening to radio commercials that don’t work then feel tremendous guilt knowing the company wasted their money on something people instantly tune out.

Commercials connect lives…I’ve yet to meet the human that doesn’t want to better their current situation. The right commercial turns fantasy into reality. Why do commercials force you to look a different direction? If you can’t relate there’s no reason to stay. I don’t believe in comedy. It doesn’t exist unless the person sharing the story has developed a relationship with the listener by way of relating. The best salespeople on earth are comedians; it cost 30 bucks to catch them live, you gotta buy drinks and finger food then you sit and listen to them share their stories. Time is money and you stayed to watch the entire performance. Laughter can only happen if you relate. If I’m talking miles above your head…now you know why I’m not a full time jock. I’ll never change.

Master one thing while participating with multi-tasking. Be you by putting yourself in the master’s shoes. You are not employed by XYZ. You are self employed and your current position at that place you zip off to everyday is your best client. Be a great salesperson and make that relationship strong and more importantly worth investing in.

Master Harris is brilliant at teaching future martial artists but I’d never ask him to bag my groceries. Not because he can’t…such positions should be performed by those who’ve mastered it.

I will always believe in you first…

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Lost and forgotten...

His name was Ohiyesa; a Santee Sioux born in 1858. Through his chosen words those who walked with him knew of his visions and reasons for them, “As a child I understood how to give; I have forgotten this grace since I’ve become civilized.”

On March 12, 1880 Judge Elmer Dundy resolved that Native American’s are people within the meaning of the law and have the same rights as any other person.

Society says it’s ok if you didn’t know this. This sort of history doesn’t inspire travelers to hoist up their anchors and putt across the open plains of a nation so great in search of footprints left in riverbanks and on lakesides.

Because history has become big money in cities like Charleston, St Louis, Cody and Jackson Hole, Wyoming, Dodge City, Montana, Pikes Peak in Colorado and even the grandest of a all canyons…the seeds used to sew a foundation of thirteen original stripes with fifty bright and beautiful stars into a world power has somehow fallen into a shade of dull only to be misplaced on the closet floor of a people in search of, “Oh my God! How did they blast four faces into that mountain? Look at that Space Needle! How long did it take the build the Golden Gate?”

Ohiyesa said, “As a child I understood how to give.”

To give is not to take nor is purchasing to lay claim on ownership a rich mans way of giving back to history. Ohiyesa didn’t fight a system of services created to civilize all connected to a single line of survival. He believed that through change American’s allowed them selves to take more and give less.

Spin back the pages of history a little further: let’s expose a truth no middle or high school classroom chooses to give.

Until 1880 a heated debate tore up the reasons why travelers from afar sailed across an open sea toward a land of peace, freedom of religion and less taxes. The arrival of the settlers wasn’t meant to cast shadows across the soils loved by the several bands of the Native American life and style but as the boundaries expanded so did the argument; were Native American’s real people or an animal?

So often bastardized by disappointed receivers the true term Indian Giver isn’t what it’s been allowed to become. The most giving man inside a circle of Native American’s was usually the chief. Indian Giver’s once meant exactly that…one who gives to better insure the safe keeping of those who’re family, friends or newly introduced neighbors.

As a child Ohiyesa was taught by elders that giving was the tree root to their continuation. After 1880, civilization began to generate a newer way of reaching levels of recognition. Native American’s didn’t create scalping, the civilization of fur traders and trail creators taught them to take. Alcohol came from civilization and through long drawn out walks late into the night Native American’s being chased into Mexico were introduced to a different type of civilization that led to peyote and other hallucination medications that helped free them from the pain civilization had brought to them.

History is meant to be studied not to raise funds for deep pockets but to help protect the mind, body and soul of mankind. While New York State becomes the latest to push open the door toward same sex marriages; Michelle Bachmann follows in the footsteps of Hilary Clinton and Sarah Palin in a bid for a Whitehouse that President Obama proved was for every person that which loves this nation so much they’re willing to sacrifice four or more years of their lives leading rather than just sitting on the sidelines.

“As a child I understood how to give.”

Where along the lines of everyday life did you stop giving?

The original keepers of this place called North America once stood proud in being called Indian Givers because it meant you had the willpower to share in ways that bettered the lives of the entire circle rather than a selfish nest. Settlers flipped that term around calling people who took things away Indian Givers…creating bouts of sadness, depression and any other mindset that didn’t represent kindness and or gratitude.

Judge Elmer Dundy’s image isn’t taped to a statue nor do his clothes, writing instruments and books of study sit in a museum open everyday except holidays. His decision in 1880 doesn’t seem important enough to give to a budding mind and spirit therefore how people were once treated could one day be the way they are treated again on a different page in history.

Civil Rights for everyone were the original ingredients used to create the brick placed on the first step leading us into brand new beginning.

It’s fun to chase the coattails of the generations before us but it’s more enlightening to take off the rose colored glasses and fall witness to a truth now hidden.

Let’s build a stronger future by investing in the chapters that have kept us moving forward. Borrowing from Native American circles its time elders hold the hands of the growing imagination and give their hearts a reason to believe in the rich history of why we are who we are so that 100 years from today we can say welcome to all nations and their leaders.

I will always believe in you first…

Monday, June 27, 2011

Stop wasting time being late all the time!

Time isn’t and never will be my friend, family or foe. Arriving three hours early is four hours too late!

The white goofy rabbit rushing through Alice in Wonderland will never live up to the tremendous amount of energy I send through each twenty four hour period. No tick on the wavering clock tocks without me walking toward the unknown purpose; I demand a solid guarantee to be who it is I’ll become hours before the expected so I can physically prepare for the unexpected.

How sick is this? Legendary rocker Grace Slick from Jefferson Starship painted a canvas for me featuring my bunny competition peacefully sitting on Alice’s lap.

I find no reason to hide this weakness; which could explain my lack of having a West coast lifestyle and radio show even in the smallest of cities that make up California. Those there are constantly fifteen minutes to an hour late which is a perfectly ripe orange, peach, strawberry and if physically possible a giant head of green lettuce.

During the 90’s Dr David the head doctor took his bright yellow number two pencil and scratched into the square living tree called paper, “This patient suffers from an addiction to excitement. If he isn’t racing toward deadlines he’ll create finish lines causing him to go until he can’t.”

The cure for such a wickedly out of control mess of a mind isn’t to locate more work…doing so has made the path of choice a tremendous failure. The doctor claims the best un-drug to shove into the system is to find a place to do nothing more than write. Which I believe might be the message Grace Slick was sending me in the painting.

No bike riding! No bowling tournaments or edge of your seat full contact hitting and kicking Tae Kwon Do. Not even a run for the boarder to toss down a ten pack of tacos smothered in super hot sauce to kill the non-beef flavor.

Waddling from side to side down the heavily crowded blvd’s that make up Santa Barbara, California a lone one owner book store in 1994 guided my blank, blank, blank and crammed the edges of a Montana made nose into a pool of honest approaches called The Artist Way from Julia Cameron. That book made time controllable.

Interestingly enough…there are opposites to this sort of addiction; brothers, sisters, coworkers, best friends and martial partners that couldn’t find the hands of a clock if it was attached to their contact lenses.

Getting a grip on the importance of time doesn’t find importance on a growing number of all people not just Californian’s. I always believed Ted Turner’s TBS started their shows five minutes late to better serve those addicted to not being ahead of schedule. His networks decision to stay late made everyone comfortable with being late. Today, having a DVR linked to your flat screen not only exceeds the limits of accepting laziness but it’s taken over our total focus. Because we’ve been trained to hit instant rewind…it’s changed our listening habits. It’s become accepted behavior to calmly say, “What?”

The stepfather Joe found reason to bash us when we’d “what” him, “I’ll show you what!”

Being on time or a little ahead is the goal. To achieve it without feeling like a time whore begins with leaving for work or a July 4th celebration ten minutes early.

Stress makes you less productive. It’s more difficult to concentrate while under pressure. Mood swings are of many when time is set aside and not taken seriously. According to the Daily Challenge leaving ten minutes earlier creates a cushion for you to fall back on.

The best example of bad timing habits is the beltway. After nearly thirty years of open debate, tax concern conversations and physical construction I-485 surrounding Charlotte can’t handle the enormous amount of daily traffic and without a doubt remains incomplete on its northern curve. Local leaders stayed on time when constructing the NASCAR Hall of Fame and Time Warner Cable Arena? It didn’t matter how loud neighborhoods complained the reinvention of South Park Mall never stopped.

I laugh while watching Red Bull and Monster power drink guzzlers and coffee addicted survivors; the majority of those painting their insides with manmade poisons lack the true connection as to why they are constantly drained. There’s no motivation in the hours tainted by a need to always be late. The entire process is nothing more than a game of catch up.

With two minutes to spare, I’ve never understood how radio jocks can rush into a station control room and creatively come up with a show that’s worth listening to. I’ve heard every excuse from I’m that good to I do my show prep at home to there’s no easier job on earth than talking over a song intro.

They’re also the people that claim the industry is terrestrial and near its death and yet new studies show 1.9 million new listeners switched from satellite and CD’s back to the old fashioned way of singing out loud and proud in the front seat their car and at work. How? The other side of radio, having an addiction to excitement or a need to be somewhere three hours a head of time generated enough space to map out a listeners life and realize smart phones, Ipads, Xooms and the overused office tower can easily hook up to Aps and streaming websites.

We found the outlet, now if we can only figure out a way to create the right content to keep you listening longer than seven seconds. It’s not going to come from someone who’s always running late. Your business is no different. Truth is…the reason why the recession won’t end has nothing to do with banks, big business and expensive gas. Why should it be on time when the importance of time is the last thing on your mind?

Ten minutes early will change your life forever.

Friday, June 24, 2011

Mother's Day is always June 28th

July 1st is next Friday! What happened to the summer of 2011? I don’t write the rules but somewhere in the tiny print it calmly explains that once we pop the firecrackers we evolve into screaming crazed zombies trapped on a rollercoaster at Carowinds.

Late Night host David Letterman recently burped up his disappointment by exposing a truer side to his unpredictable personality, “It’s hard to believe my son is seven years old! I just can’t stop it!”

I keep nearby the ashes of my puppy rescues never realizing the number of years each participated with the pages that make up the books we write. I never think of them not being around; they’re always chewing on a sock in the next room or lifting their leg on the neighbor’s mailbox.

Nearly forty nine I feel the greatest gift held is having both parents still just a phone call away. In an age of Face Book, Skype and the occasional Hallmark moment snail mail card…Vi and Joe continue to putt around inside their ancient slippers reaching for the rotary phone. It doesn’t matter how much I beg the mother figure to let me buy her a computer the excuse is all the same, “There’s something to be said about slowing time down.”

Then it happened; NBC 6 reported this morning that our brains are shamelessly evolving into an object that resembles popcorn. The cause of this new effect? We’re spending too much time tapping soon to be forgotten nothingness into the computer.

Holy Hollywood Batman! Movie makers and Star Trek conventions have it wrong…Area 51 isn’t about ET looking Katy Perry space aliens! We’re the bubble heads that’ll invade foreign waters pissing off Godzilla. That wasn’t an earthquake in Japan that was Senator Anthony Weiner’s popcorn brain!

The only known cure handed to me that physically without a doubt is the absolute best weapon against time destroying your perfectly ripe need for a vacation is to flat out no questions asked just do it…locate boredom. I’m talking Oprah’s new network combined with reruns of Beavis and Butthead and Charlie Sheen explaining how hooker’s, drug abuse and getting fired is the breakfast of champions.

Boredom! Take what I’ve written so far and read it ten times. Do all you can to memorize the way of the Arroe. You’ll be so bored that time will take the first flight out of Charlotte Douglas headed straight for the Bermuda Triangle hoping to disappear forever.

I fricken turn 49 next week. I will never be in my 40's again. I can’t tell you about anything that happened because I’m still locked on why nobody came to my eighth birthday party. And now you know why I quickly change the birthday subject choosing instead to recognize those 24 hours as a reason to celebrate motherhood. Lost in the depths of my soul is a mental image of the first time we locked onto each others eyes. For 1.3 seconds my real father’s horrid mental abuse and evil ways of treating people was no longer part of my mother’s path. And now you know why I love music so much. He forced her to sell the only thing she loved…a piano. So my entire life its been my purpose to sing her songs.

Time…I have hundreds of songs shoved onto cassettes that are quickly fading and have spent the past two years in a real recording studio mentally treating myself like a true rock star and the one song I want her to hear most remains unfinished because time hasn’t allowed the producers to find the importance of this project being something of importance.

So…again I’ll put the lyrics of the song out into the universe hoping that one day without notice the poets pen and the desire to paint music inside the eardrums of my mother’s deepest wish to hear songs reaches the soul my father destroyed.

Got thinking about that summer night…

When things didn’t feel right

And I was forced to make that call

To hear your voice before the walls came tumbling down onto the streets made of gold….inside God’s Heaven.

Thank you for believing

Thank you for always seeing

Thank you for all the hugs at night

Thank you for so much insight

I can’t walk with God until I know you’ll be alright

I can’t walk with God until your heart is felt in the kisses you placed so many times on my forehead.

Simple dreams are hard to catch

But you made it worth every step

Monday Tuesday everyday a reason to hold the memories

Childhood pictures have started to fade

But the love I have for you will never be that way

Because you are…


Driving down the road I couldn’t speak

Such an empty feeling

Heard your voice and had to say

Thank you for believing

Thank you for always seeing

Thank you for all the hugs at night

Thank you for so much insight

I can’t walk with God until I know you’ll be alright

I can’t walk with God until your heart is felt in the kisses you placed so many times on my forehead.

They say we’ve aged but I don’t believe it’s true

Time moves way too fast

But everything becomes alright

When I close my eyes and think of you

You are….


I love you

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Insanity doesn't end or begin in a mirror...

Today I looked in the mirror…

The person standing across from the tooth brush I tightly gripped might be the same age I am.

I didn’t question. I didn’t find reason to challenge. I half heartedly stood there with my addiction to determination wondering what it would take to remove this thing from the mirror so that my two
aching ankles could locate enough balance to touch success.

Stop! Insert comments from 11th grade Creative Writing teacher Mrs. Eschler who would take her evil as sin squeaky red El Marko Flair pen and scrape across such thought these heavy rehearsed constantly tired almost never understand words: This collection of run on sentences with improper punctuation gives nothing to the reader because the author elected to put ego before acceptance. What are you trying to say? Your view of the world is so far off the ground NASA refuses to call it a UFO believing there are some things people should never talk about.

Break it down…

You want. You need. Requirement is a daily function. I hear it everyday, “There are too many walls in my life to seek what I once dreamed.”

That wall, invisible bricks, bad decisions made on rainy day Monday’s has a face, two eyes and the remnants of a booger in the left nostril and you don’t have the guts to save them from future embarrassment. Why that image in the mirror elects to show up each time you poke your head into a pool of reflection makes it more unconditional with its love than a dog.

Then it occurred to me today…if the frame before you stood to your left or right and bared the name family or friend…it’s an hourly ritual in this country to ask them to slide to the side so you may pass. But that image stands in front of you every time you go into the bathroom, drive the car, walk by a giant window at a mall store! At least a shadow disappears at the stroke of midnight.

If for one second the image would leave its post…where would your dreams breathe?

Call me insane, a whacked out washed up former teen turned adult figure but that wall can be climbed, dug under, moved around or through. In recent weeks I’ve placed my 2nd degree black belt in front of the mirror not to inflate my confidence but to reach through it like a fist shatters a brick but with no invitation to create more destruction.

All things held in the image of a mirror is who you were. The laws of reality don’t allow it to escape into the future. It only reflects what you’ve experienced.

Shaped like my mothers heart each eye placed into the forehead of the reflection watches me more than George Orwell’s Big Brother. What is strong isn’t what’s on the other side it what you hold inside.

Rather than stand in the mirror to see if your bicep is growing if your butt might be too much for society to handle…change you not what the mirror is willing to let you see for free. Mirrors lie, bend the rules, find reason to forgive too quickly and seek no reason to protect you from unexpected changes and all things required to recover.

It’s your choice to educate the mirror.

I half heartedly stood there with my addiction to determination wondering what it would take to remove this thing from the mirror so that my two aching ankles could locate enough balance to touch success.

If you believe so much in what’s being projected from the mirror why haven’t you included its name on a resume? Take the potential employer into the nearest restroom and have them interview that thing looking back at the two of you.

Mine would slowly shake its head from side to side then reply, “Don’t waste your time.”

Because that’s what mirrors do. It’s the place embarrassed weekend wagons that have fallen push you to ask deep questions without ever getting honest answers. A favorite song slips from your car radio speakers and instantly you’re the next American Idol blasting those vocals out like rock stars on ice. The tiny peeps in the seats behind you seek nothing more than to bring rage to your cage and without a doubt the image in the mirror catches you in a state of fear and says, “You were once this way.”

Or does it?

A mirror doesn’t talk back. Like dogs and cats we’re easily convinced a look, stare, reaction, pant or readjusting of the belt or skirt is a map to follow on a journey toward only one destination.

Do you know what’s made it worse? Digital cameras… One click and a quick spin to see what was preserved onto an itty bitty teeny weenie little chip.

A picture of me was taken while sitting at a table in Chicago staring into a handheld mirror. I’m drawn to that picture like M.C. Escher cut into his own image and placed it on paper. You don’t have to believe in ghosts but by God you better give all you’ve got to the thing on the other side of that sheet of glass.

If what it says is truth…why do objects in a mirror seem closer than they appear?

Why has the black belt been set in front of the mirror? To remind it of the path I chose to walk and no matter how much it hurts at 49 to be thrown like trash from a car on I-77 or some back road in South Carolina…the journey didn’t end on the day the heart my mother breathed life into rebooted.

A mirror doesn’t tell you not to achieve success. It’s you who says, “I quit.”

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Who did you say you were?

Mark Twain is looked upon as being one of this nation’s most brilliant paper scrapers; one who scratches thoughts into the core of a living tree turned into a thin blizzard white canvas.

His greatest challenge wasn’t facing editors, printers, buyers, sellers and or an imagination that decided when and if it would show up for work…Twain had unheard of difficulty masterminding a plan to tell his own tale.

Twain wrote: I have been dictating this autobiography daily for three months. I have thought of fifteen hundred or two thousand incidents in my life which I am ashamed of, but I have not gotten one of them to consent to go on paper yet. I believe if I should put in all or any of those incidents I should be sure to strike them out when I come to revise the book.

Mr. Twain deeply disliked unveiling the skeletons in his closet because of an evolution we all introduce ourselves to; what we lived is no reason to share because to regurgitate it teaches us to reinvent fact.

Wikipedia typos and rewrites are nothing compared to the chapters of our daily lives. By the time our efforts reach the image in the mirror, like the child’s game Telephone…the message received has nothing in common with the origin of thought.

Bill Gates and Steve Jobs built machines that opened our minds to erasing without having to paint whiteout over ideas now changed. For PC fans Control/Alt/Delete masks the problem it doesn’t solve the issue. We eat to fade away from bad moods. We buy to reboot our love for life. For millions the vision of having passion for the art we design at work has evolved into a 480 minute prayer meeting echoing our gratitude for insurance companies that have grabbed American culture by the nun-sims and squeezed until there’s nothing.

Chuck writes on Face Book, “I’m tired of being the generation that can’t break away from an episode of Friends. They are beating us to death! Where is originality?”

Research shows American’s find an overload of peace and tranquility living in the past, therefore the Entertainment business doesn’t punish us with repeats but instead feeds our reasons to feel safe in a past that Mark Twain believes we rewrite everyday.

I challenge you to go back three to five weeks and reread your Face Book posts. Invite your present to sit with the past and learn to recognize how much you haven’t changed.

I’m extremely guilty of this mental torture! Three of my books wouldn’t be without having a firm relationship with a past that hangs around like a worn out intern or family member.

After 33 years of sitting loosely in the empty radio channels and poetic curves of a hell bent creative life and style I decided to finally complete a book I began in the eleventh grade. It’s only reason for life was to keep me motivated to stay in school. Therefore the junior in high school created a place to breathe. The book has changed so many times man not only switched back to being a monkey but his evolution now includes a cell phone attached to the inner lip next to the front teeth turned into flat screens.

Fans of Twain waited 100 years for his authentic never before seen adventures with a writing instrument. An avenue of travel he didn’t want to participate with but peer pressure forced him to push ink into the veins of history.

The National Enquirer once hoisted a flag over the greatest collection of word dumping within the circles of success: Because inquiring minds want to know.

And now you know the image we fear to shed. In each of us is a tiny battery operated device that taps on your shoulder every chance it gets to remind you of something you promised yourself you’d never forget.

I don’t remember my grandparents talking about crossing paths with friends long gone and written out of the will. The idea of taking something to your grave passed away in the 19080’s during an episode of The Dukes of Hazard.

A Spanish friend writes, “I didn’t come to this country to hear what my parents listen to in Mexico. I want Led Zeppelin, Boston and KISS. Please let me borrow your Marvin Gaye CD’s.”

What is the drug that keeps us addicted to the past?

A minister once shouted from his pulpit, “Your life! Will be played back! Oh it will be played back! Everything you do today! Everything you did yesterday! Every happy time! Every crime! Your life! The beginning all the way until the end will be played back before you enter the gates of Heaven! Then God will decide if what you did…if what you do tomorrow…if what you said, say and deliver through the actions of choice if you shall enter his home blessed with eternal peace.”

Ok…innocent question. Lord knows my book Conversation with the Devil ruffled a few unexpected feathers…if the keeper of the Beta tape player is gonna play it all back…what in his name are we doing hitting button while here on earth?

Reach! I said reach! Reach for a new dream! You were born to create not rewrite, edit, undo or crumple up, delete, repeat and or bring back up every time someone steps on your ten little toes! Shape the future by participating with it. Do it before it’s too late!

I love the idea that NASA has dropped the space shuttle mission because its time for our human feet to walk on Mars. We can't get there playing Chess in an International Space Station.

I will always believe in you first…

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Hello's me the current moment

It must have been something I picked up on Face Book; a daily challenge that’s designed to sink into the subconscious then spreads like wildfire through the blood stream. Positive endeavors that provoke the deep inside to think of itself as a raindrop that slowly moves from the mountains of Montana, kissing the Missouri river then dumping into the mighty Mississippi just so the folks in New Orleans have something to look at.

Today’s challenge invites the reader to jot down a few words from a future self about what’s been accomplished.

The pessimist instantly grabs the microphone and utters out of tune comments while the optimistic image in the mirror caters to a different field of seeds sprouting dreams.

The current self wants to break bread with the figures once known as Grandma and Grandpa; not to seek another dollar for my nearby birthday but rather gather the knowledge required to do nothing more than find faith in every corner of our constantly changing circles.

Which I believe is the main driving force behind why I trust the way of the Black Belt path. Every step taken hasn’t been lived before me.

Too often students of martial arts become addicted to maintaining a curriculum whose reward system is a series of belts; each represents a level of growth not the memory of movements made in forms that resemble Hollywood movies. Its human nature to think of yourself as being the best by the color of the belt your wear and not the blood you’ve shared.

The belt doesn’t make the man; the man makes the belt.

In early 2000 I sat in the center of a Native American sacred circle that gifted my insight with the newly born east, grateful west, knowledge filled north and a south whose history can never be changed. Like all boys who truly never grow up; it’s a willing desire to seek the handshake of a true warrior. But to know a warrior you must become the warrior; my heart was set on separated definitions. I wanted to know only one warrior he who sought peace…

Without warning, not even an agreement with three ghost figures said to have visited an old man on Christmas eve one time…fate put my fists, feet and way onto a path that would lead realms of reality away from everyday occurrences right onto a journey toward lessons taught over and over again for over 2,000 years.

Not a reason was explained until a requirement of history was to be researched before entering the honor of being called a 2nd Dan black belt. I called the project Modern Day Masters of the Kwans. The future me believed no belt was worth its presence unless I fully understood where the roots of this living tree sprouted its source of energy.

The unfiltered attempt at connecting dots painted a portrait of a vast array of futures met then set again and again. In 2000 I didn’t realize the warrior’s hands I’d shake would be that of multiple Master’s of an ancient form of communication not necessarily with people but to a self if given a voice would choose peace over all other things.

By listening to the future the height of every mountain faced grew smaller.

Now it’s your turn…

Silence the pessimist for its voice is always too loud; give reason for the optimistic to build for you a bridge over your current struggles. Do nothing more than listen to the wind. Julia Cameron constantly writes about taking walks around blocks while Thich Nhat Hahn teaches that true peace is found in the way you promote it.

Demanding you want a pay raise is American culture but do you live up to the belt that which you wear? Anyone can be a radio on-air talent. The only skill required is knowing who your audience is not just today but everyday even while standing in the liquor line at an ABC store.

Getting a book published is extremely exciting until you sit in the row at Barnes and Nobel and count the number of hardcover readers that never stop to leave a fingerprint on what seemed so important to you.

I’m not saying, “Don’t!”

I’m sharing, “If you do…understand who it is you’re trying to reach.”

Those who have green thumbs realized along the way that it’s not a current moment that’s invited color to a summer day but rather a connection with a future waiting to be discovered.

When was the last time you purchased a plant at Home Depot and it lasted longer than a single dry summer? No day passes that everyday average people invest their hard to locate money in plants that are raised in nursery’s to live in the moment then pass into a memory forgotten.

How’s that career going for ya? Are you a great company investment or a tiny purple daisy that looks just ok nestled next to the mailbox? Ever had a conversation with the future? It’s talking to you right now…

I will always believe in you first…

Monday, June 20, 2011

How to stop having the same day over and over again...

Sunday night! Any night! Five hundred channels to surf on cable TV and the only wave available to carry your overworked mind is a primetime repeat or badly produced car or skin product info-mercial.

Syndicated programming may be a money maker for local channels, the actors and directors but to television viewers it continues to prove how modern settlers of an entertainment frontier gone awry can’t stop accepting second, third and fourth best.

We’re no different than being an innocent child strapped to a highchair with a parental figure shoving bright orange smooshy squash between our gums.

How I Met Your Mother, 2 ½ Men and this fall The Big Bang Theory hitting the air five nights a week is no different than owning burned out movies on DVD. There was a Betty White Hot in Cleveland marathon two weeks ago. MTV wouldn’t stop playing their movie awards. Family Guy, American Dad, Futurerama, the freshest thing on the flat screen is Sunday morning religion and Joel Olsteen later in the night.

A radio guy demanding better variety…talk about an oxymoron. The Ipod took over because investing in a fifteen dollar compact disc was a bigger gamble than a weekend trip to Vegas. Car stereo foreplay dissolved in the 80’s and 90’s making antenna driven entertainment on the go something the older generation did.

Rarely do you meet the listener that spent more than seven minutes with your four hour program.

Is it lack of content or laziness? I can’t answer that question. Once you’ve been introduced to the wizard behind the curtain broadcasting is the cheapest thing since the blue light special at Kmart. A program director once said, “I’m tired of hiring radio people because the new breed believes our industry is the next best thing to putting in eight hours at Taco Bell.”

Depending on what book you read…a lack of content has been the main focus for every outlet. What is the secret ingredient that holds a television viewer longer? How can radio present itself to listeners so they don’t injure an index finger punching scan?

Please don’t say Pandora! Every conversation I dive into is based on how easy it is to hit like and dislike. We’ll take our eyes off the road to dislike Tom Petty. Love Lady Gaga tell the long distance music maker from universes from afar and you’ll get more creative writing…until the day Mother Nature blasts your workday with paradise and because you’ve disliked so much…the thought of adding Mary Jane’s Last Dance is farther away from your personal planet then the nearest Burger King.

Our new culture in American Fad is to be where you are at the present then mysteriously combine it with a past you can’t change and a future refusing to be predicted. Therefore there’s tremendous confusion causing outages in creative departments from Hollywood to local newscasts at four, five, five thirty, six, six thirty and eleven.

ABC has pulled the plug on two daytime dramas because viewers aren’t there anymore. Extremely popular radio shows have suddenly disappeared. Captain Kirk was wrong; he wasn’t on a voyage across the final frontier…who, what, when and how you think is the new space and getting to it has nothing to do with light years and the speed of sound but rather a desire to participate with your everyday.

Car dealers should stop trying to sell and begin the process of sharing ideas on how to keep the vehicle moving forward for the seven to ten years we’re going to keep it. Educate the community on the differences between fossil fuels and electric. Give consumers a reason rather than a price as to why a new age in energy is required. If the nation has elected to stop buying why not fit into the lifestyle of the new consumer and not revert back to the old habits of shoving mooshy squash between our lips?

Where is all of this coming from? A tiny way out of the way restaurant in nowhere America that quietly made their way through a campground promoting their lunch and dinner specials. When asked why their prices were so inexpensive the owner calmly replied, “There are a lot of people unemployed…when the economy gets back on its feet we’ll return to normal.”

Guess where I had dinner Saturday night? I’m not a cheap freak! I love content and they sold me without having to rely on old tricks of the trade. Less than twelve hours later I did what few do in America today…I watched an entire commercial on television only to see the most brilliant writing…30 seconds of finding reason to visit the smaller towns and parks of North and South Carolina.

Fresh is in the commercials. Maybe its time we DVR past the reruns and dive into the 15 and 30 second messages radio and television are slipping between the laughs we’ve already burped up on our bibs.

After a while your Ipod will start playing the same songs and how many times can you stand to hear Jimmy Buffet playing live in Chicago on Pandora? I found myself looking forward to a 15 second dry vocal about Target only to realize what I was truly looking for was relationship. Damn if I didn’t turn my back on Pandora and take up I Heart Radio picking up Gen X which plays 90’s music…rap, alternative, pop with a touch of modern because the content on this station didn’t take my eyes off the road. When they hit a commercial I accepted it knowing they’d soon be back with more variety.

Stick around for the commercials…it’s amazing how many American businesses will keep their doors open when you know the message. There’s something fresh in the middle of the music and television something different in your life by locating newer places to go by listening to the commercials.

I will always believe in you first…

Monday, June 13, 2011

Different view of the same picture

It’s not your fault! Or is it? Is there something deeper going on?

Constantly you’re challenged to change the layout of your day only to face change and change again; and we’re not talking lost nickels, dimes and quarters under the front seat of your car.

Trust has evolved into workplace extinction.

Nobody enjoys having their name connected to dysfunction and failure therefore change becomes the only tool offered in a business world where tight last second decisions can become the empty handed reason why failure was painted onto the picture.

If so much change has destroyed a once valuable level of trust; why then do decision makers rip from their belts newer brands, attacks and visions? My radio mentor Andrew Ashwood reminded us daily that he wasn’t paid to like people but lead the company signing his check to break through walls that gifted his bosses with achievable success.

Might it be the employee at fault and not the leader?

Seth Godin of Tribes fame writes, “Faith is the unstated component in the work of a leader which makes it underrated. Faith leads to hope, hope overcomes fear. Faith is the dividing line between humans and most other species. We have faith the sun will rise tomorrow.”

Brace yourself…with so much pressure from upper levels of management; having faith in the work you perform hourly consumes so much energy that some circles have begun calling the eight hour American workday a new religion.

Compare the two!

Godin explains, “Without faith the leap never works. Religion supports the status quo and encourages us to fit in not stand out.”

How many company meetings vow to pull you into newer methods of delivery that now require missionary service between the departments?

This isn’t a new millennium or a post recession reaction to locating instant gratification; Godin reveals in the 1960’s IBM perked up their masses by enforcing workplace protocols, dress codes and precise methods of presenting ideas like that of a religion.

With faith shouldn’t there be trust? Trust has evolved into workplace extinction. Success of any type must be fed a full stream of communication.

Godin continues, “Faith at work needs to be amplified. It makes things easier for your peers to encourage their employees to embrace for the constant need for change.”

Woolworth’s once held its employees to it highest standards because being different made them competitive. Country clubs hold down a major set of rules that must be obeyed.

Godin warns employees, “Challenge a decision makers workplace religion and you’re taking on their faith.”

Suddenly your eyes open almost popping the sight machines out of their sockets when you stand back and view how the average person accepts the message; from sporting company colors and clothes to wearing badges and electronic keycards with their pictures to motivating the owner of the cubical next to you to continue believing in the reasons why there are so many demands compared to one or two years ago.

Godin points at Apple when explain how Steve Jobs has managed to lead millions to a brilliant display of computers at work while masterminding a plan to incorporate play things too like the Ipod. Phil Knight of Nike is no different.

Faith is what humans were born to do. Having faith creates action then reaction. Leaders are compensated for the people they deliver therefore risks are taken to maintain a presence. Having faith can be well worth it but doesn’t the journey truly begin with trust?

Trust has evolved into workplace extinction. Until today… Now you know what to look for when everything at work seems like it’s completely out of place and horribly out of tune. How many coworkers are truly seeking the very thing decision makers are determined to conquer? With so much preaching is anything sinking in?

Take notes! Visually watch and compare. Be a leader in the way that you can help spin bad times around by becoming part of a solution rather than developing circles that aim to challenge change.

Godin wraps things up, “Change is made by people, by leaders who are proud to be called heretics because their faith is never in question.”

Where do you sit on the path of rediscovery?

I will always believe in you first…

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

When you want to say I quit...

Who and what is Anvil? Thirty two years in the broadcast industry and suddenly this band name’s been popping up everywhere. Rock God’s three hundred feet tall praise the path of these Canadian singer/songwriters and I’m left sitting in a radio station production room biting my lower lip wondering, “Where did I screw up?”

Seriously! Looking in the mirror at the self I’ve become the uttered words were, “Do you know who I am? I, you, we…have read every music book at Barnes and Nobel and neither of us have a clue who Anvil is. For God sakes we’re from Montana! Something surely had to cross the boarder late at night! How could you mess up like this?”

My addiction to American Top 40 and Casey Kasum forced me into a lifestyle of turning every inch of this scratchy career into years of constant research. I honestly don’t recall hearing a heartfelt teary eyed Long Distance Dedication or behind the scenes story about these metal monster or I swear their 8-track tape would’ve been part of my collection of dust keepers.

Wait! I blame this lack of knowledge and total disconnection on my 1985 decision to leave KOOK in Billings, Montana to be an 80’s Adult Contemporary on-air radio talent dominated by Phil Collins, Steve Winwood, Michael Bolton and Celine Dion in Charlotte, NC.

Once locked within the walls of four in a row without talk, where playing Main Street from Bob Seger earned me an angry late night call from Bill the program director; the only metal shoved into my ears was usually a rugged pair of heavier than a case of boxed wine Koss earphones who’s ear padding had faded with the success of John Cafferty’s Beaver Brown band.

Anvil has earned the right to be in the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame and yet record company and top secret ballot voting politics and Bon Jovi will see it can’t be. Gut’s, dedication, loyalty and six oceans of sweat poured into the weathered cracks of weak stages no longer turn the page Bob Seger once sang of.

The idea of this Canadian act getting credit for slipping metal between the electronic sheets created by an 80’s British invasion doesn’t seem to be reason enough to hold up their vow to being different. Without Anvil there wouldn’t have been a hair band movement.

Before Alex Van Halen and Motley Crue madman Tommy Lee…Anvil drummer Robb Reiner put his trap set in the history books thanks to a need for speed…Robb didn’t rob past trend setters he set a new technical standard by pioneering the double bass drum technique that's become a staple of much extreme metal since.

Then it happened…when one is hungry for success one doesn’t like to settle for anything less than the best. Rather than having a nice clean sliver of the melodic pie the group’s manager wanted more than what the label was willing to cut loose. Being in the right place at the right time for Anvil meant letting go to get a better offer and during those negotiations the music industry was introduced to Def Leppard, Poison, Ratt, Cinderella, Sebastian Bach, Kip Winger, White Lion and Joan Jett…

To watch their story on VH-1 Classic’s is like being in the seats at a local YMCA during a three on three basketball tournament. The best of the best almost never make it to the major leagues of success.

Anvil isn’t coming to Charlotte or anywhere close this summer. The American leg of their bar tour puts them in Chicago July 26th, Cleveland the 27th New York on the 30th the Boston the next night.

Out of all the bands and musicians that have scraped the surface of my radio speakers…I have to say Anvil is probably the only one I’d invite to dinner. It’s not the music that’s rocked the old man attitude inside a mind that’s still sixteen…I just wanna know where they get the guts and courage to continue being true to their art. It would be the spaghetti dinner of a lifetime to sit and listen to what it’s like to be a real rock star.

The band that influenced music to become real again in the 80’s is the Ford Mustang or Corvette millions dream of owning but wait until they hit their midlife crisis. This garage band never stopped fine tuning the engine that always whispered, “Yes I can.”

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

You can't ground someone for bad behavior if they still have a cell phone...

There must be a written rule; a single line of thought transcribed then tossed somewhere under a beat up barnacle covered shell located beneath four miles of ocean waves and seagull droppings that simply states: Mentors find you, you don’t find mentors.

My first degree black belt mentor would probably argue with this unrehearsed word sketching claiming it was me who chose him to lead only to find myself fighting constantly with his mind body and soul.

We’ve all had someone that’s put a dent in the circles tightly kept and in the end their efforts are what’s helped inspire, influence and shape who and what you’ve become be it through teenage peer pressure or physical rip the human processing system completely out and replace it with an Intel modem that guarantees all Best Buy shoppers a better performance.

There can be no excellence without effort.

Not my words but completely without a doubt my way of life. Oliver Wendell Holmes once said, “The mode by which the inevitable comes to pass is effort.”

Thomas Jefferson adds to it, “I’m a great believer in luck and I find the harder I work the more I have.”

Theodore Roosevelt put in some seriously long hours without complaint because he believed that it’s only through labor and painful effort by grim energy and resolute courage that we move onto better things.

When does giving too much become bad behavior?

I recently stood next to an extremely sad man; sad because he couldn’t believe how fast life was passing. His baby brother was due to report to active duty and although his love for family seemed overbearing and never ending, there was nothing he could say or do that would silence the emptiness now felt.

Caringly I asked, “And this emptiness you speak of…where do you think it originates?”

He blamed his career. He was deeply angry that he had given every ounce of his God given effort to finding success at his place of employment that it completely took his eye off the little brother he vowed to watch.

“But you found success in your career right?”

“Nowhere near what my dreams set out to accomplish. I invested everything into my job and lost the view of my brother growing up.”

The one thing they don’t teach you in high school is that one day you’re going to wake up after life happened. You’ll be completely surrounded by materialistic reminders of where effort guided you but in the end you’ll never get back the innocence of going against your parents wishes of riding a bike with no hands. From there you’re challenged to race two blocks from home then to a completely different park, mall and across five lanes of reckless rush hour city traffic.

Inside a current society fed by a need to succeed…if the average corporate boss was asked to name their employees they’d fail. This becomes your mentored inspiration; a need to know is covered by a need to know basis meaning no effort should be spent on getting to know when knowing too much doesn’t guarantee you business success.

The efforts placed upon the growth of this nation by the footprints of Thomas Jefferson and Theodore Roosevelt have been replaced by the effort to make more money than your neighbor, cousin, sinister sister and unmasked warrior from high school that claimed he knew the way of the world until old age caught up.

In his book The Black Belt Book of Life the Secrets of a Martial Arts Master; Richard Andrew King exposes our greatest human weakness…the ability to create shortcuts.

Achieving success through excellence, dignity, nobility, character and reputation no longer require years of fine tuning by way of being shaped by mentors who’ve been to hell and have vowed to never return but only moments taped to a brilliantly written resume and cover letter.

There used to be a time when effort put American’s on the moon before the Russians. Effort led Mohammad Ali to being the greatest boxing machine displayed in the most marketed colorful cities of the world. Effort has kept freedom on the shores of a nation other nations created because its people wanted to find peace, love and religion. Effort from Bill Gates has gifted your life with computers that fit under a desk or on your lap. Effort has allowed grass to grow in desert states like Arizona and New Mexico.

Effort isn’t expecting your people to perform when your hands have never been dirty. That’s how the pyramids were created and I might be wrong but in a different part of the world didn’t Rome fall?

I’m not asking for my father to take off his leather belt then wave it around like a wild man in pursuit of achieving all chores to be done…I’m just asking for the mentors to come out of hiding. The day has come that those in charge can’t get it done and it’s going to require leadership not a college education to make it through the perfect storm.

There can be no excellence without effort. Or let me put it in a less poetic way…ATM machines on every block are only cool if you’ve got money to take out. Starbucks coffee can only purchase you an hour of feeling up then its back to reality. No President of the United States moved this country forward…it required the entire embodiment of people.

Monday, June 6, 2011

Having a great day at work requires a little less you...

Is it fair to laugh and point fingers at someone that brags or is torn a part due to a burning itch to call themselves a perfectionist? Are they physically aware of what outsiders see, feel and hear?

Let’s play on equal sides of the field; the first move is to eliminate what we assume a perfectionist is or isn’t. paints the best picture: A person who is displeased by anything that doesn’t live up to their high standards.

Greater Good The Science of Life unveils the image outsiders experience; a steady pace of discontent caused by a never ending conclusion that can never be met because a perfectionist always believes they could’ve done better.

Know anybody like this?

It’s ok to look in the mirror because life instantly becomes more fun when the color in the eyes staring back are fired up and ready to rip into the first soul planning a verbal attack.

Perfectionists are positively protective for a purpose; if anything is going to get done, it has to be right so a perfectionist chooses to stick their neck out first. To most bosses and coworkers we like this person! There can be no glory if someone’s not willing to showoff some guts. But do perfectionists truly play this way?

Dig a little deeper into the skin of perfectionism and taste the true person; perfectionists aren’t go getters. The majority of all kids and career addicted adults fail to achieve results because of a fear of failure. Taking risks while embracing new challenges is a no show in the performance department because the payoff is usually disgust in one’s self.

The true face of perfectionism has nothing to do with meeting high standards because getting past the mistakes devastates every reason to think you’ve got permission to move forward.

Artist Way Author Julia Cameron invites perfectionists to a place of peace by allowing them to understand the difference between the end results. Not to say I’m a perfectionist but in a radio station commercial production room we’ve got the power to hit undo. Read a 30 second commercial then tap undo. Do it again…hit undo.

Writers will do a page then do the page again, again then again. My book Halloween 78 waited thirty one years to be published because the assumed perfectionist in me wanted to adopt new levels of word play. I really screwed things up when the artist within elected to go Shakespeare leaving nothing for the common person to understand. I wanted to write the perfect book to be read while sitting on the toilet. Read one page only… but even I began to get lost. That spelled out another re-write.

By identifying a perfectionist’s true colors which is to settle more than to gain ground…your heart begins to open to newer shades of blue, red and green.

Perfectionism is a disease just as much as depression is more than just a mood. Learn to identify each before there’s unrest and peace shall blossom in places along the highway.

Seth Godin of Tribes fame is driven to identify why there are so many followers and not leaders in this country. We settle. Lord have mercy thank God in Heaven my Grandparents fresh from the shores of Norway and Germany didn’t hit American dirt and say, “Where’s the nearest Starbucks…Momma needs a caffeine buzz.”

Seth explains people settle because there are way too many competing priorities. Heretics don’t settle; heretics hold opinions that aren’t generally accepted.

Two different people perfectionist versus heretic and both are found in the footprints of most company leaders attempting to run success through the veins of their modern business.

Seth writes: Managers who are stuck, who compromise to keep things silent and who battle bureaucracy everyday end up settling. What else can they do? The people above them are playing the same game!

Taken straight from the strings that bind the pages of a book together: The art of leadership is understanding what you can’t compromise on.

How have I been able to publish six books? By grasping the idea that I should’ve been doing it while still in high school. Rather than bust my a** trying to be the authors that inspired me to move a rock…it’s become my way of life to build the tools to teach others how to touch a stone.

I wrote music to get my words into the hearts of a passerby. I got into radio because judgment day in the music department was too harsh to digest. A single seven second break over a song has the power to make or break a listener’s decision to feel incredible or go about their numb way. I still haven’t reached the perfectionists acceptance…but there have been days that the writer has received letters from India, Russia and Spain that softly whispering, “Do you live my life? You’ve said something that speaks directly to me.”

Perfectionist versus heretic…I’ll never invite someone to lower their standard but I’ll spend whatever life I’ve got available to get you to believe in yourself a little more than yesterday. Now share it with the person next to you.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Stop texting and emailing and nab some face time!

An old fashioned direct from the 70’s and 80’s handwritten posted note was recently taped to my radio station control board: Set backs are temporary for they open the door to comebacks.

Does this include face to face time?

Whoever invented the handwritten note didn’t know the people that landscaped the email nor those who’ve climbed the highest peaks known as Face Book and Twitter. I am writer enough to admit 120% of what’s pasted to this computer screen flies over 200% of your heads and yet I’ll do nothing to change it.

I’ve been labeled by so many people Wal-Mart wants to put a digital code on my fingerprints.

Our decision to shove aside a need for more face to face time has turned the business and family world into golf balls. Seriously! How many times a week do you have to explain what you said because someone on the receiving end interpreted it in a way that pretty much says you are a jerk, quirk or far, far deeper into a world that few people ten generations from now still won’t be able to explain.

I text, email and social network everything and everyday someone within the limits of my circle gets hurts, angry or remains undecided on how they should react to something they physically didn’t understand but didn’t feel a need to simply say, “WTA” What the Arroe! Trust me; my name has been used so much in vain that wants to officially dub it the years most descriptive cuss word.

Can I be disappointed with the way we toss out notes without someone thinking they read something differently?

I’m guilty of the note passing crime because it’s what we did in at Billings Senior High. If I wanted to nab the attention of someone or make fun of Mr. Marsh head of drafting…we swung the arm out and passed the words via paper. Such behavior today is looked upon has being bullying. It kills me to think we were bullying the drafting teacher for having a weird as hell Raleigh Fingers from the Oakland A’s handlebar mustache. Nobody could see his lips move! The voice suddenly appeared and it was Zen before Zen was in.

Set backs are temporary for they open the door to comebacks.

What if we brought back face to face time? Lord have mercy I just had a vision of radio station air check sessions where the station programmer wasted no face to face time telling you how much you suck. At least with emails they don’t have to see me sweat.

I’m thinking this digital writing stuff is up to no good and could be the single ingredient that brings this country to the brink of civil war.

Look how it’s infected the business world; people are fired because thoughts were digested improperly; brothers and sister become Rick Flair versus The Rock while fighting it out which totally interrupts the flow of Christmas and birthday parties.

My good friend Randy has the best solution for our addiction to tap, tap, tapping on a keyboard, “The best message to send is when can we meet to talk about this.”

Do I stop blogging? It’s been fun to study all these downloaded books of incredible information then quickly share the message with you but…wouldn’t it be more fair to you if face to face time came into play? Now that I’ve said that…the radio guy in me is generating a different view because everything we say on the radio has nothing to do with seeing you.

So it’s our fault! OMG to the highest level! Because you can’t see me the message shared over that four in a row without talk is being read wrong. Honestly…if you only knew how many on-air talent work diligently on perfecting the fine art of inflection so that what’s being shared is completely understood. Unless you’re Rush Limbaugh, then you’re an old guy shooting off steam. My butt is going to get kicked.

Set backs are temporary for they open the door to comebacks.

Let’s bring back face to face conversations…we have failed as the sound bite instantly text message generation. It’s not working and our minds and bodies weren’t designed for it to work. We only assume God has an internet connection.

I will always believe in you first…

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Seriously? Really? Who are you going to blame tomorrow?

I foresaw the future but it took nearly twelve hours to recognize its footprint on the weathered path to which I chase.

After attacking the muscle groups designed to inspire legs to carry the weight of fifty people or more then a grueling hour long boring as hell heart wrenching treadmill adventure…the unforeseen vision was put into play. Sweaty, stinky, workout clothes more damp than Lake Wylie I entered the men’s locker room, ripped off the padlock and for some idiotic reason dropped it and my ear-buds into the front pocket of my pants.

Within twenty minutes I torched the alternator on the car…thanks to AAA it was hauled away.

A new Wednesday begins and it suddenly hits me while driving the P.O.S. backup wheels to the radio station, “Cr** I can’t workout tonight! I don’t have a lock! Wait! I put it in the front pocket of yesterdays jeans to which I put near the door so I wouldn’t forget it.”

I foresaw the future and had no clue it was being performed. Ta dahhhhhh! Free tickets! Get your free tickets to another show right here!

Junk like this happens all the time to every one of us…most of it moving silently through the chapters we write. If we analyzed every breath we took; the entire world would still be counting money on Chinese abacus created in 1200 A.D.

But you know me; there’s no fricken way I’m gonna let this go. There are three things that might have occurred here:

1. Old fashioned good luck
2. The Dalai Lama teaches that we’ve lived this life before. The more we live the more we’re able to foresee the arrival of things that can’t be explained.
3. I’m totally stealing this from the Charlotte Bobcats latest promotion; prepare today own tomorrow.

As much as I believe whole heartedly in the first two; the very fact that a major franchise hoisted into play by basketballs greatest player Michael Jordon has adopted a Twitter-like Social Network moment of inspiration to sell their vision of a fast approaching new season is absolutely without a doubt a marketing landslide victory.

Less than a month ago Bobcat’s President and Chief Operating Officer Fred Whitfield unveiled the NBA team’s new campaign saying, “Our owner is committed to building a franchise that competes for championships year after year. But it’s more than just talk, there’s a process and a method that all started this past February as we collected assets like young talent, draft picks and cap space. It will take time but the work we’re doing today will pay dividends to our fans tomorrow.”

Prepare today, own tomorrow.

Being a martial artist has taught me how to be aware of everything within the circle; subconsciously the mind and body were preparing for the elements unveiled in the next twenty minutes. It doesn’t say I once lived this out. I didn’t pull a rabbits foot from my pocket.

Prepare today, own tomorrow are only words; leaders don’t incubate, they incorporate people by way of turning thoughts into motion. The act of moving forward requires fuel and the Charlotte Bobcats have aced in our nations need to recover.

Plant the seed then watch a field of wild roses grow.

The front page of the USA Today Business section spoke in a language we all know, “What’s keeping this country from growing when the experts claimed the recession was over two years ago?”

Some argue that its greed while others become seriously red in the face shouting, “Socialism!”

Seriously? How about lazy?

We all know someone who knows someone who has a friend that’s collected every possible unemployment check because it beats having to pull off a late night shift at Burger King, Food Lion or Wal-Mart.

Not prepare today, someone owes you tomorrow. The only person that owes you something is yourself. You deserve to have the very best of the best but to get it you not your former boss or the Untied States Government have to be prepared to take on an unpredictable, completely undecided, always a pain in the a** day tomorrow. To prepare for it…it’s your minute by minute challenge to invest time in being aware of everything within the circle.

When was the last time you took five minutes out of your drive to locate freedom to recognize every piece of the pie? Rather than complain about the car dealership that sold me a car with a bad alternator I took the time to get to know my AAA wrecker service driver.

I wanted to know how he dealt with the 90 degree heat of a Carolina summer day. He works out in his AAA uniform complete with heavy leather boots outdoors under the sun. It prepares him for the elements. He’s conditioned to find success during a time when those in need are depressed and mentally not in shape to deal with reality.

Prepare today, own tomorrow.

As the production department head of five stations I’m often labeled a way out there in left field jerk for taking the time to physically care for every piece of sound that vibrates your speakers between the songs. I spent my three day Memorial Day Weekend studying the habits of every radio station I could pick up because somewhere out there is the needle in the haystack. We’ve been trained to zoom past commercials on television; in radio listeners still have the power to punch the dial. Prepare today, own tomorrow means the journey toward the perfect radio commercial that doesn’t sway you away is the horizon I chase. Now teach it to up and coming Broadcasters that think hosting a morning show is the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.

Prepare today, own tomorrow. I love the Charlotte Bobcats for grasping onto a lyric that not only affects but infects every walk of life. You can’t be a champion if you let life happen. Success comes with preparation.

I will always believe in you first…